Inherent Homing

Sequential pools of lamplight stitched

Down rain-swept midnight streets

I’m walking on pavement

With the sheen of watered silk

Drops so soft against my cheek

Dilutes the tears but not the intent

Of my raised hand, knuckles rapping

Against the rough grain of this door

That should not be

Here in front of me

~ kei
7 February 2015

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